Thursday, November 21, 2013

Five Minute Friday - Fly

Five Minute FridayOn Fridays a bunch of brave writers gather here to all spend 5 collective minutes writing on a single prompt. It’s a great way to catch your breath at the end of a long week. This blessed, beautiful place where we open our hearts and let words and tears and the inner workings of our lives bleed and flow and dance across the virtual pages. Yes, this community opens wide and invites you in to share. Come and visit and read. You will be blessed.

This Week: Fly


It’s been four years. That’s a long time to be away. There is so much that I miss. But so much that I don’t. Did I read once, “you can never go home again?” We tried. It didn’t take. It didn’t take at all. Almost wrenched us out of orbital alignment and sometimes, there’s still the bitter copper taste of old blood and bad memory when we talk about it. But it’s a good place to be from.

It’s home. Where the heart is. And there is so much of my heart that is still there. So much that it hurts.

While I have planted my feet securely in the Pacific Northwest, my lungs breathe with the rhythm of the waves against the sand on Lanikai and my skin longs to feel the sweep of the trade winds coming off the Ko’olaus.

I have left roots in the islands that will never sever, no matter how long I am away. And though I sometimes struggle with the distance and what it means, there is part of me that will always find my way home there.

It is an unfolding that is as easy as tumbled sheets and well-worn blankets, thin with age. The tension I consistently carry in my day-to-day somehow melts as I wrap myself in family, familiar scents, sounds, and the food that I cannot let go of – keeping numbers of long-forgotten and closer restaurants in my phone just because I can. My husband says even my language loosens; my cadence slows; and though I’ll swear to you I don’t have an accent of any kind, he grins to hear me order items and hold conversations with people who suddenly sound more like me than I thought they did.

There is no trans-Pacific highway, even in my dreams, but I’ll be on a concourse soon enough: t minus just a few days now. Shivering in the early morning here because in less than six hours, I’ll step out there and smell that singular mix of salt spray, plumeria, and tarmac that lets me know I’m home. The only way to get there is to fly – I’ve got to get on that plane and go. I’m not excited yet – I never am until the last minute.

And then the last minutes will vanish like candle smoke and I’ll forget all the worries and stresses that have been plaguing me and it will just be joy at the idea of being home. Seeing them and being in their arms and in the midst of their love. For that, I will fly.


A little sound of home that always takes me back:

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  1. I love going home. You can feel it in your words.

  2. Going home can be hard physically and emotionally. So glad I read your words tonight!!

  3. Rebekah that was beautiful. It reminds me of my home. It's only an hour and half away, but it has changed so much and my family has changed so much that it wont ever be the same either. I'm savoring that bittersweet. The smells and the way the sunset hits my old bedroom - thank you for dredging up those thoughts :)

  4. Going home can be good, hard, familiar and painful. I loved reading your words and going to the island with you, hearing your order your food. Blessings.

  5. I don't know what it's like to "go home". I've lived where I am now most of my life. I can imagine how your heart will always be home, there where you was took root. Have a blessed weekend.

  6. I loved reading your thoughts of home. The memories are etched in your mind always.

  7. Girlie - I am so excited for you! And this? "While I have planted my feet securely in the Pacific Northwest, my lungs breathe with the rhythm of the waves against the sand on Lanikai and my skin longs to feel the sweep of the trade winds coming off the Ko’olaus." What I wouldn't give to one day get to the Islands and have you as a tour guide! That one just may have to go on a Bucket List! <3

  8. To go home for me means driving about 30 mins and I am there. I love that no matter how far or how long you've gone you still have a piece of your heart there.

  9. I loved reading this. Isn't it interesting to meet people from all sorts of places...that home for you is exotic to us? :) That you've found new home and joy in what would be norm for so many and wouldn't go back to the beaches and the sun...I hope your trip home is refreshing and not painful...just joyful

  10. Beautiful post, Rebekah! Enjoy your time at home!


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